A Milkshake at the End of the Galaxy
by c1araoswa1d
Summary: (Tumblr Prompt) Can you make a First date and first kiss Whoufflé fic, please?


His Tardis was parked within hers, the blue box sitting calmly in a corner, her light flashing occasionally out of a sort of glee rather than – the Doctor knew – alarm. It should have been in alarm, the proper response to a pocket universe inside of a pocket universe. The cloister bells of both ships should have been doing their deafening duty, but instead they sat silent in defiance of the rules and merely looked on as the Doctor stepped across the bronze metal flooring towards the console, now decked in browns.

He smiled before glancing around and stating the obvious, "You've changed the desktop."

In human terms, it could be considered ' _steam punk'_. The console was made to look as though it were constructed of old varnished oak with brass knobs and brushed nickel bolts and levers, random clockwork here and there ticking away quietly; the tubing at the center had matching strips running up its length in four places to adorn it and inside strung a towering patchwork of gears turning in and around the glowing time rotor as this Tardis swung through the vortex to settle on their destination.

He wrinkled his nose and he listened to her giggle, already knowing what he was going to say. "I don't like it," he sneered in jest, remembering when she'd first stepped into his slightly altered console space. It seemed like so long ago, and he smiled as he watched her bow her head – perhaps it truly _had_ been.

The waitress outfit he'd last seen her in had been replaced by a pantsuit. One maybe he'd seen before, or maybe it simply reminded him of something else. A bit of a pirate, he thought with a grin, watching her ease the landing brakes before offering, "Like the shirt."

It was dark velvet, flowing out over her arms to cuff firmly at her wrists. Over her chest sat a snug coffee-colored worn leather vest that fell loosely over her backside and down to the knees of her black jeans; buttons from the waist to just between her breasts closed, opening to her collar where that shirt sat open _just enough_ between the lapels that curled around her neck to be seductive, but still modest.

 _Bit of a pirate_ , his mind repeated as he looked her over, meeting her eyes to see the flirtatious stare she was aiming at him. "Has much changed?" He questioned.

"Probably as much for me as for you," she replied quickly with a small shift upward of her chin, a grin easily accompanying it. "It's been a few hundred years."

"Not so for me," he lamented.

She looked away, telling him simply, "I know."

"You always did," he teased.

"Your eyes give it away," she offered.

Dropping his brow and taking another set of steps towards her, he questioned, as he waved his fingers over his face, watching the way her own eyes saddened as he asked, "Is it still so easy for you, Clara, after all of these years, to discern so much through these eyes?"

"Doctor, it was never easy," she sighed, " _My Doctor_ ," she told the console on a breath before glancing back up at him to shake her head, "I believe the ability to read your eyes was earned."

He chuckled in response, hand coming up to move over the surprisingly smooth edges of her console as he glanced around and questioned, "Ashildr off for the rest of the night?"

"She's not the hired help," Clara retorted before her head toggled, "It was a big adventure – saving the _universe_ ; restoring _your_ memories – she wanted a night out," her hand came up momentarily, "So she's out."

"That how you work with your companion?" He teased, arm coming up to flutter through the air as he sighed, "Just let them wander off."

" _Lady Me_ is not my _companion_ , she is my friend," she replied, correcting him as she eyed him sternly. "And yes, freedom and trust are fairly important to any relationship, wouldn't you say, Doctor?"

He nodded slowly, then took another step closer, asking, "Have you the freedom and the trust to wander off with me for the night then, whilst we await the return of your dear Lady?"

Her smile brightened as she leaned forward and questioned, brow dropping slightly, "Are you asking me out on a date, Doctor? An actual _proper_ date?"

On a shrug he asked her curiously, "Are there parameters written down somewhere for an actual _proper_ date?" He leaned into her to whisper, "Because I imagined we'd had so many already, Clara."

She laughed, low and quick, and it sent a shiver down his spine. So much had changed, he'd gathered from the past few hours, but the way she could work him hadn't. Clara turned away from the console and he followed her as they moved to the door and through the old diner, stepping outside to look at the three moons standing in the darkened sky.

"I had a lot of time to think about that," she told him honestly. "I did," she admitted, nodding.

"First mistake of immortality," the Doctor told her, "Thinking too much on the past."

Clara tilted her head back to say, "I'm not immortal, Doctor, and it was easier than thinking on the future."

To the day she returned to her time stream, he knew. The Doctor took a long breath when she turned away, feeling his hearts thumping erratically in his chest, wishing he could reach for her wrist and feel that same erratic pattern in a pulse he knew hadn't returned. If it had, he absolutely knew, she'd have found him sooner and not by accident.

If it had, Clara would be back in his Tardis.

"Do you give it any thought, Clara, to the day you have to die?"

Her head dropped immediately, but then she gave him a beaming smile as she nodded, eyes gleaming in the light of those moons as she stated firmly, "Yes, Doctor, the universe wouldn't remain standing if I didn't."

She shifted then, turning to bridge the distance between them as he remained still. "I remember what you said in the Cloisters; I remember the Cloisters, Clara," he uttered as the toes of her boots tapped lightly against his. "To hell with the universe," he growled.

Clara laughed. It was a gentle huff of noise that warmed his chest and he lifted her chin with his right forefinger, watching the tears roll over her cheeks as she said softly, "You don't know how often I think that."

The air around them charged in a way he rarely experienced, and he lowered himself to meet her lips gently, eyes closing against the tender burn of that touch. His thumb brushed her chin and then his hand shifted to her cheek as his other hand rose to hold her face still, taking time to revel in their kiss. It was no less affectionate than it had been a few hundred years ago for her in that darkened space on Gallifrey as it'd been for him a mere century ago.

And she still tasted of life, he thought as that kiss deepened. He could feel her hands slip underneath his jacket, holding tightly to his sides, clinging to him as though he might disappear before her eyes opened, just as she'd done before. The Doctor felt his hearts drop as his mind raced, beginning to formulate plans and that's when she shifted back away from him, a cough of a sob escaping her before she sniffled roughly as her hands tightened their grip on his jumper.

"No," she told him softly.

"What have I done?" He questioned.

"It's not what you've done," she explained, "It's what you're thinking." She smiled up at him, "Trying to find a way out for me, for us – don't you realize that's what got us into this in the first place."

After a moment, he nodded and told her softly, "My inability to let you go."

Clara nodded and her hands slipped away, dropping only a few inches before he caught her, gripping her cool slender fingers within his as he laughed gruffly as she whispered, "You know she was right, what Lady Me said about the Hybrid – neither of us want to be that."

"And yet both of us do," he offered with a tilt of his head as she glanced up. "Conundrum of the universe."

"Literally," Clara scoffed, turning away to laugh. Her hands tightened their hold on him as she looked back and landed a warm smile on her lips. A genuine smile as she told him, "Come on, Doctor, let's go back inside. I'll make you a milkshake and the best chili dog in the Milky Way."

"We're in what's left of the Antennae galaxies," he told her, nodding his chin upwards towards the stars.

"Haven't judged the chili dogs in the Antennae galaxies. Definitely on the to-do list." Clara considered the skies and shrugged, "Up for the meal or not?"

"Oh, _Clara_ ," he sighed, then lowered his chin to respond with a smirk, "How could I turn down the offer – milkshake and the best chili dog in the Milky Way."

Shaking her head, she turned back to the diner and tugged the Doctor in with her, grinning back at him foolishly as he smiled. They moved past the counter space and through the Elvis painting on the back door and the Doctor gestured back as they re-entered the darkened console and then made their way towards the first corridor before the Doctor slowed her forward motion with a questioning glance.

"Milkshake," he stated, thumb pointing over his shoulder, "Chili dog?" He asked, voice breaking slightly against the growing smile on her lips.

"Thought we might get there," she shrugged, "You know – long way around."

The woman before him offered a mischievous look he knew all too well and he stated her name softly before asking curiously, "Where are we going?"

Clara began to tug at his hand again, her cheeks growing just a bit red in the dim light of her Tardis as she pulled him into the corridor and towards the rooms he knew lay just beyond. For a moment she said nothing, but she chuckled in a way that made him blush as well.

"Like I said, milkshake and a chili dog," she responded smugly. "Long way around."


End file.
